


Sherlolly is Real

by yourdistinguishedglitterstudent



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Happy Ending, No ILY scene, Post TFP, Sherlock Is A Bit Not Good
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-02
Updated: 2018-06-11
Packaged: 2019-05-17 08:10:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,092
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14828603
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yourdistinguishedglitterstudent/pseuds/yourdistinguishedglitterstudent
Summary: Sherlock is photographed giving Molly an innocent peck. Molly believes that Sherlock will be upset, not with her, but because something so innocent was taken out of context.





	1. Prologue: Sherlolly is Real

Sherlock Holmes yanked the newspaper out of John Watson's hand. "Hey!" John tried to grab it back, but Sherlock walked away with it, holding it high above his head. He went to the kitchen, and absentmindedly grabbed a biscuit Mrs. Hudson had left.

The front page had grabbed his attention, and he wanted to make sure his eyesight wasn't failing him. He held the newspaper very close to his face, then further away, and then close again. Nope. His eyesight was fine. It really did say that.

There was a photograph, and a headline. He didn't even remember that happening. He thinks a little harder, takes a trip to his mind palace, and there it is. Yep. That happened.

The photo was of him, and a certain other person. He had been so thrilled when she had helped him solve a double homicide/suicide case. He simply kissed her cheek, like He had done two times before, in appreciation. He hadn't meant for it to happen. And he hadn't seen her since it happened. But it had only been two days. And he certainly didn't think THIS would happen.

He read the headline: SHERLOLLY IS REAL. And then the article. 

"Consulting Detective Sherlock Holmes was seen in the company of one Doctor Hooper all around London all day Tuesday. One assumes that Holmes was working on a case, but that didn't stop him from consulting the pathologist on other things. Has Holmes finally found The One? We talked to someone close to Holmes to get his take on it.

"'I knew they were bound for each other,' Detective Anderson of Scotland Yard told us. 'I've seen the way he looks at her, and I've always said they're perfect for each other.' Anderson went on to tell us his theory on what really happened when Holmes faked his death and disappeared for two years.

"Since the incident in the photo above, Holmes has not been seen. We're not sure if he is still in London at this time. Doctor Hooper has been seen coming and going from Saint Bart's hospital, where she works, but has not given us a statement."

Sherlock shook his head. "This isn't true. Has journalism really declined so far, John?"

John shrugged. "I think the only question is: does Molly know about it, and how, if so, is she handling it? I think you need to take a trip to Bart's."

"You're right," Sherlock tossed the paper back at John, missing by a long shot, and went to the door. He pulled on his belstaff and wrapped his scarf around his neck. "I'll be back in a couple of hours." He opened the door and left.

John stood with his mouth gaping. He didn't think he'd actually go.


	2. Chapter 1: Sherlolly is What?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Molly is startled when Sherlock come to confront her. But things don't go exactly as she expects.

Molly Hooper - professional pathologist. If she was professional, why couldn't she stay that way when Sherlock burst through the doors of the morgue? Because she'd seen the paper, she knew he'd be angry about it, and he'd probably take it out on her.

He wouldn't mean to, of course, but he would. It'd happened to Molly many times before. Like that Christmas party, so many years ago. "Why do you always say such horrible things?" She'd asked then. That was the first time he had kissed her.

She didn't want to relive that moment, so she refocused on the corpse in front of her.

"Sherlock, if you've got something to say, spit it out. I'm a bit busy at the moment."

He hesitated. "I. . . I only want to apologize," he started.

This got Molly's attention. "What? Why?"

"My behavior on Tuesday. It was most unbecoming," he explained.

Molly's brows furrowed. "I'm not sure I follow, Sherlock."

Sherlock frowned. "Some. . .things I shouldn't have done."

"Are you apologizing for kissing me? Or because it was photographed and printed in the paper?" Molly held her breath. "Because if it's the first, I don't want to hear it."

Sherlock scratched the top of his head. "I suppose for the second, then."

"Good," Molly went back to her body on the slab. 

"What's 'Sherlolly'?" Sherlock asked.

Molly nearly went through the entire body with the bone saw. She looked up at him. "It's a ship name."

"A what name?"

"A ship name. Like for a couple in a relationship," Molly had known about the name for some time. Her friend had once gone out to dinner with detective Anderson, the biggest "Sherlolly" shipper out there. Her friend had told her all about it the next day. Then, they had laughed about it. Now? Now it was more serious because Sherlock knew.

"And this ship name. . .?" He paused.

"Yes, Sherlock. That's us," Molly told him, looking back down at the body. "People are so nosy. They think it's okay to just mess with people's lives. They don't even realize when they're harming people."

When did that tear escape? Why was she crying? She's a professional!

She sniffed. "Aren't you mad about this?"

"No," he answered. "I've come to the realization of something." He turned to her. "Molly, have dinner with me tomorrow."

"But tomorrow's Friday. It'll be crowded, usually reserved for. . ." Molly's head shot back up. "Dates."

"Yes, exactly."

Molly's mouth dropped. "You're asking me on a date?"

Sherlock frowned again. "Not if you don't want it to be."

Molly shook her head. "No, that's, that's fine." She smiled at him. "But I don't get off until 8."

"Then I'll pick you up at 8:30." And with that he left in the same manner as he had entered.

Molly smiled to herself as she looked back at the corpse. "I'm going on a date with Sherlock Holmes!" She told the body.


	3. Chapter 2: Sherlolly Date

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlolly goes on a date. Just a bunch of fluff in this chapter, with A bit of angst thrown in.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I made some updates to this chapter, for those of you who have read it on my Tumblr, you'll notice a slight change towards the end of the chapter.

"And so you asked her on a date?" John asked, quite confused as to how he had actually got the nerve to ask.

"Oh, John. Hush!" Mary scolded lightly. "I think it's just wonderful!" 

Sherlock stood in front of the hall mirror, an installation that Mary insisted on, and one he was grateful for right now, Friday evening straightening his tie. 

"Where have you decided to take her?" Mary questioned. 

"Quincy's Tea Room. He owes me a favor," Sherlock answered. 

"Oh, that's so sweet! Molly's gonna love it there!" Mary reassured. 

Noticing the doubt in Sherlock's eyes, Mary grew concerned. "Are you alright? Are you nervous?" 

Sherlock frowned at Mary. "Nervous? What's there to be nervous about?" 

Mary smiled, a motherly smile. "I can tell what you're thinking, Sherlock. You're thinking 'what if I'm not good enough for her?' Am I right?" 

Sherlock met her gaze through the mirror. "I'm an addict, who's treated her poorly for years. I _know_ I'm not deserving of her."

"Oh, Sherlock," Mary sighed. "I felt the same once. Undeserving. But then someone was willing to give me a chance. And now someone is willing to give you a chance."

John, who had been quietly watching and listening, finally interjected. "She's right, you know? You're worth it, Sherlock. We can see that, and so can Molly."

Mary gave John a warm smile.

Sherlock, who still had doubts, finished with his tie. He looked at his watch, 8:10. Just enough time to get to Bart's.

"Thank you. Both of you. But now I must leave, or I'll be late." Sherlock grabbed his dinner jacket and hastily put it on. "Don't wait up for me," he said with a smile. And with that, he grabbed his belstaff and exited.

"He's really grown up," Mary said, half jokingly, as John pulled her in for a hug.

"He sure has," he chuckled into her hair.  
_______________________________________________

An hour later Molly and Sherlock had settled into their window booth. Molly stared at the menu as sherlock stared at her. He had thought her beautiful when she wore that black dress that Christmas. But tonight? Tonight she was stunning in a pink dress that hung off the shoulders, with her hair up in a way he had never seen.

When he had picked her up at the hospital, he had been stunned speechless. Stuck in his "buffering" zone. She had honestly stolen his breath away.

"What's good here?" Molly asked, bringing Sherlock's mind back to the present.

She looked him in the eyes as he answered. "Try the hot rose tea. It's a personal favorite of mine. And the sugar biscuits," he paused and pursed his lips in thought. "And the macaroni and cheese."

Molly's tinkling laugh echoed through the empty room Sherlock had reserved for them. "Really? Mac and cheese in a tea room?" She giggled again.

"That was my first thought too." He brought his head closer to her, as if sharing a great secret. "But try it. You'll see what I mean. Best I've ever tasted."

Molly's eyes were still lit with laughter. "Alright. You've sold me!"

Sherlock smiled back at her.

Throughout the dinner of large bowls of Quincy's famous mac and cheese, they held a steady conversation. Talking about little things, work, and debating theories on how best to kill someone quickly. Anyone listening would have been frightened, unless they knew the two, in which case, they would have found the debate amusing.

Once they were back out side they shared a laugh. "I would have never guessed a tea room could have such good mac and cheese!" 

Sherlock nearly snorted. "See, I told you!"

Once they were back in the car, Sherlock was silent, almost brooding. 

"Sherlock, are you alright?" Molly asked.

Sherlock turned towards her and smiled. "Just a case," he lied. He was running through all the valid and logical reasons why Molly shouldn't be with him, tonight or any other night. But he wasn't going to tell her that, not when the evening had been enjoyable. He wouldn't ruin it for her, even if they never went out again, which was highly unlikely since he had had such a wonderful night with her.

After dropping Molly off at her flat, Sherlock made his way back to Baker Street. No mention of a second date had been made, but Sherlock knew Molly wasn't going to push him. He still had doubts about the whole thing. But he knew he wanted to feel the way he felt tonight again.


	4. Chapter 3: Officially Sherlolly-Part 1

*two and a half weeks, and five dates, later*

Sherlock swept into the morgue like every other time before. His belstaff fluttering behind him. He took his hands and wove them through his hair, giving it a good shuffle, as he did every once and a while.

Molly, of course, thought it was just about the sexiest thing in the world. But when his head snapped back up, she could see a storm brewing in his cerulean eyes. He made a bee line for her, and when he reached her, he kept his voice low, as there were a few others, technicians, in the room.

"I just received news from Mycroft," he started.

Molly furrowed her brows. "It's not bad, is it? Has something happened to your parents? Oh my, gosh! Your sister hasn't escaped again, has she?"

"What?" Sherlock questioned her as his eyebrows shot to his hairline. "No, nothing of the sort. Just that he gave you some tickets to a ball this Saturday."

Molly released her breath. She rolled her eyes. "Oh, that! Jeez, Sherlock, you scared me to death. I thought it was something serious!"

Sherlock looked as if he was about to rip his hair out. "Serious!" It came out a bit too loud, and the others in the room turned to glare at him.

"Of course this is serious!" He continued, in a whisper-scream. "The gossip has just only stopped about us. We go to this thing, together, and we'll make national news!"

Molly shook her head and rolled her eyes, surprising herself that she wasn't straining them with how much she had been doing that recently. "You're making a big deal out of nothing." She sighed. "We don't have to go if you don't want to. I just thought it'd be fun. Besides. I called in a favor from Mycroft for them."

Molly shook her head and rolled her eyes, surprising herself that she wasn't straining them with how much she had been doing that recently. "You're making a big deal out of nothing." She sighed. "We don't have to go if you don't want to. I just thought it'd be fun. Besides. I called in a favor from Mycroft for them."

Sherlock's brow furrowed in confusion. He knew that Mycroft and Molly knew each other, but not "favor owing" well enough.

"What do you mean 'called in a favor'?" he asked, using air quotes.

Molly raised her brows at the unexpected gesture. "I babysat his cat once."

Sherlock buffered for a minute. During that time Molly was able to do a little bit of the paperwork she had been working on before he had interrupted her.

"Fine!" He nearly shouted, giving Molly her second heart attack of the day. "We'll go. I'll pick you up at 7." And with that he turned to leave, pulling out his phone and dialing it as he went.

Molly smiled to herself. Not because they were going to the ball, but because she had been there when Sherlock had met Mycroft's cat, Princess, and was surprised that he hadn't deduced her when he had.

\----------------------------------------------------------

That Saturday, as promised, Sherlock showed up at Molly's at 5 til 7. He left the limo that Mycroft had lent him waiting as he climbed up the steps and knocked on Molly's door.

He waited a few seconds before knocking a second time. When no answer came that time, he tried the door, but found it locked. He picked it in a few seconds and let himself in.

Cautiously opening the door, he poked his head inside. "Molly!" he whispered. "Molly, are you in here?"

Still no answer. He stepped in further, mildly worried, but he knew Molly would have texted him if there had been something wrong.

"Molly!" he called again, this time much louder. He stepped into the living room, and that's when he heard it. The hair dryer was going in the bathroom. Nothing was wrong, she just couldn't hear.

Sherlock released a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. She was safe. He straightened up and went to go sit on the couch to wait for her. 

Two minutes later Molly came out of the bathroom and immediately let out a bit of a squeal.

Sherlock, who had been startled out of his mind palace, immediately jumped and stood in front of Molly, as if to protect her, not realizing that it had been him who had scared her.

He turned back to her, with a sheepish grin on his face. Molly stood there with her hand against her heart. "Way to give a lady a heart attack!"

"Sorry," he blushed a bit at the way she looked.

She wore a pink evening gown that flowed out in a narrow fashion around her. In a word: breathtaking.

Molly blushed under his scrutiny, and she put a hand to her chest in a self conscious way. Sherlock continued to buffer for a few seconds longer. But when he blinked, and met her eyes, Molly could see something in him soften, and possibly melt.

He cleared his throat. "Molly, Molly you look radiant," he said in a soft tone, the one that revealed a bit of how he felt.

She smiled, putting her hand back down by her side. "Thank you. You look rather dashing in your suit."

He blushed, genuinely blushed. He'd had compliments before, but was unsure how to take one from Molly about his looks. Of course he'd known about the crush she'd had on him, but never before had she paid him such a personal compliment.

After a minute of awkwardness, Sherlock cleared his throat. "Sh-should we get going then?"

"Right. Of course." Molly grabbed her clutch and a wrap off the back of the sofa.

Sherlock opened the door and the two walked out into the chilly London night. Molly locked up her flat and followed Sherlock to the limo. The driver opened the door and waited until they had settled in to close the door. Soon they were on their way to the dance, where some of the most prestigious in London would be tonight.

Sherlock tried to think of something clever to tell Molly, but everything he could think of, she already knew about, probably because it had to do with a case they had worked on together. Luckily, Molly saved him the irritation of regaling a story they were both tired of hearing.

"The other day, when I told you about Mycroft's cat, did you call him and ask about her?"

Sherlock rolled his eyes. "Yes. Princess," he nearly snarled the word.

Molly covered her mouth as a giggle escaped. "I shouldn't laugh. . ."

"No."

"But I suppose," she barely contained her laughter, "maybe you haven't been to his place since he got her." She laughed again. "But you did meet her."

Sherlock's brows raised. "When?" He almost challenged her.

She smiled. "Three months ago, you picked me up for a case. She ran out of the house and you took off after her," she paused to laugh, wipping the tears from her eyes from holding back. "I'd never seen anything so funny! And you assumes she was mine and didn't ask any questions about Toby. Really, Sherlock, I thought you might have been losing your touch."

"Never!" He hissed. 

Molly smiled. "Then what?" She giggled.

"I really did think it was yours!"

At this Molly burst out in a fit of giggles, so uncontrollable, that Sherlock had to stop her the only way he could.

In an "all-of-the-sudden" moment, Sherlock grabbed Molly's face in his hands, all laughing aside. She met his eyes, and could see the seriousness in them. Molly gasped, and Sherlock took that opportunity to dip his head down, her lips just a hair's breath from his. "Don't laugh at me, Molly," he said in a deep voice that sent shivers run down Molly's spine.

Molly's pupils dilated, as Sherlock Holmes did the one thing she had only dreamed about. The kiss, far superior than any she had before received, was soft, not at all what she had expected, but better than she could have ever imagined. Sherlock pulled back way too soon for Molly's liking.

"Ah! We're here," Sherlock said nonchalantly, as if that kiss hadn't shook him as it had her. 

To Be Continued. . .

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> MAWHAHAHAHAH!  
> I had so much fun writing this Chapter! I hope you guys enjoyed it. My best friend read this as soon as I posted it on Tumblr and she texted me and said I was evil for leaving it like this, but oh well! It's definitely more fun for me!
> 
> If you want to see the dress Molly wore, you can look at my Tumblr post, or check out the link: https://www.pinterest.com/pin/467530005040262206/


End file.
